Conversation
by a-linz
Summary: Sara is lonely and Nick doesn't believe in interlab relationships. Phone conversations spark some pretty interesting revelations. NS


**Disclaimer:** If it was mine, there would be a little less crime and a lot more action…

**A/N:** Post-ep 5x15: "Spark of Life". Contains lots and lots of dialogue.

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**Conversation**

As soon as Sara stepped into her apartment all she wanted to do was tear off all her clothing and head for the shower. On good days, she ate first and then crawled in to bed (because she _could_ take care of herself just fine) but today breakfast would have to wait.

She stepped into the shower and stood there for a few moments, as if shutting her eyes would shut out the image of Tara Matthews, covered head to toe in third degree burns lying on her hospital bed. After a good five minutes, however, she started moving again. It seemed that lately, five minutes was the longest amount of time she would allow herself to stop and do nothing.

While she towel-dried her hair in front of the mirror the phone rang.

'Hey Sara.'

She cradled the receiver against her shoulder and hung up her towel. 'Nick. You could have talked to me back at the lab; we were working the same case, you know.'

'It's not the same.'

Sara was too tired to tell exactly what he meant by that. That speaking to her in person wasn't the same? Or was he referring to the strange tensions between their shifts since the split? 'Okay then. But I'm going to fall asleep soon.'

'That boring, am I?'

'Well, you've got good looks, Nicky. You don't need a great personality.'

'Why Miss Sidle, I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me.'

Sara crawled into bed and pulled up the covers. 'You're very welcome.'

'Eaten yet?'

She heard the obvious concern in his tone and sighed. 'I'm already in bed.'

'You should grab a bite when you wake up then.'

'I know. Stop fussing, Mom.'

His good-natured chuckle travelled down the line and warmed her just a bit, like it always did. 'How was it?'

'What, work?'

'Mm.'

'Not great.' Sara was silent for a while, pulling at a loose feather, its tip scratching at the surface of her pillow. 'I know it sounds odd, but sometimes I wish Greg wasn't on our team.'

'What do you mean? I thought he was doing great?'

'He is…But if he was working with you and Warrick-'

'I don't think he'd pick to work with _us_ if he had a choice,' remarked Nick with a snort.

'They're starting to get to him. I just think about it a lot. I don't want Greg ending up like me.'

He said, softly, 'Sar, there's nothing wrong with you.'

'There's nothing _not_ wrong with me, Nick.'

'No, that's not true.'

Her reply was made unintelligible by a rather violent, gripping yawn.

'I guess I should let you get some rest.'

'Thank you,' she drawled.

After hanging up and flicking off the lamp, Sara curled up on her side. She was glad, and rather pitifully grateful that he made the effort to talk to her even if it was only over the phone. It had become a sort of routine and she had gotten used the morning conversations, sometimes going on until midday and at other times lasting only five or ten minutes.

It was during the Bruce Eiger case that the two of them had briefly processed evidence together. When it was all over and they were free to go home, Sara's cell phone had begun to vibrate halfway across the car park.

'Nick? Did something come up?'

'No, nothing.'

'Oh...are you ok?'

'Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Uh, how are you?'

'I'm…just outside. Right, if nothing's up, why are you calling me?' She turned back to the building to see him stepping out onto the entrance stairs.

'This is ridiculous, you're wasting your minutes.'

'They're free. I think.'

Sara rolled her eyes and clicked her phone shut. Nick strolled over to her, smiling.

'What was that for?' she asked.

'You're so suspicious. I only wanted to ask a question.'

She folded her arms and stared at him in the way which made most people squirm with self-consciousness, but Nick never did as she would know. He only continued grinning as if humouring a small child, even though _he_ was the one acting strange and she was obliged to put up with it.

'Okay, go on.'

Nick began to walk, which ruined the effect of Sara's glare as she had to stop and follow him. 'Was it weird in there before?'

'Weird how?'

Nick shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced sideways at her. 'Between us, you know? It's different.'

Sara wanted to tell him he was wrong, that he should stop worrying about whatever was bugging him. Because it was Nick and even though Sara never minced words-knew that he could take it-she did wish things weren't this way with them. A friendship slipping away like the last crinkled leaf on an Autumn tree, awaiting an inevitable drop. She was sad to see it go.

'Yeah, I guess it is,' she agreed.

'I'm sorry.'

She looked up and ahead. Morning was just breaking over the horizon, strokes of orange and pink like luminous paint across the sky.

'What are you sorry for?'

'I should have been there for you.'

He was the last person that she would want to discuss her 'Issues' with, Sara thought with bitter amusement, and gave him another one of her special stares that didn't work. Unfortunate, that. 'I don't need you, Nick.'

He nodded. 'Still.'

'I haven't been such a great friend to you, either.'

'Yes, you have. You've always been there, Sar. And _I_ need you.'

The ends of her lips quirked up. Funny how they both said things and meant the opposite.

'Do you ever wonder,' he'd asked her one morning when the sky was purple everywhere, 'what it would have been like if you'd never come to Vegas?'

'I never thought I'd say this, but you think too much, Stokes.'

He laughed. 'Thanks a lot.'

'But you do, don't you?' pressed Sara.

'I guess so. I'm good at faking it.'

She was peeling kiwifruit and arranging the halves in a pattern on a plate. 'I used to be.'

'I'm glad I moved here. Most of the time.'

Sara secretly suspected that Nick would be happy most of the time anywhere. But perhaps that was unfair of her.

'And I'm glad you moved here,' he added.

'It's been…' she hesitated, waiting for the right word.

'Nice to know you, too?' suggested Nick teasingly.

'Enlightening. In a lot of ways.'

'Yeah,' he grinned, imagining her sitting across his table, stirring around muesli with a spoon. She liked it with plain yoghurt, he remembered. 'You could say that.'

The day they swapped stories about their exes was an unsettling one. It had always been easy to share things like that with Nick and they started off laughing together over the ridiculous experiences they'd had. He was particularly intrigued by her mile high club anecdote.

'When I told Grissom, he _looked _at me like he didn't know me at all,' she giggled. 'Which come to think of it was probably very true.'

'It's Grissom, he knows everything about everyone-'

'But doesn't choose to see it,' Sara finished for him. 'Not until now, apparently.'

'Well there was that thing with Teri Miller a while back…'

'_Thanks_, Nick,' she said dryly.

'Sorry,' he replied sheepishly. 'But Griss has a thing for blondes, I think you need to deal with that.'

'I'm over it, all right?'

'All right,' agreed Nick, although he sounded doubtful. 'It's a shame.'

'What?' she laughed. 'You think Grissom and I would have been good together?'

'Er,' he cleared his throat. 'You want my honest opinion?'

'You mean lie?' gasped Sara dramatically. 'Nicholas, how can you even suggest such a thing?'

'Ha ha…'

'Go on, I do want to hear this honest opinion of yours.'

'I don't believe in inter-lab relationships.'

Sara choked on the orange juice she was drinking. 'Sure you don't!'

'It's true; why do you think we've never had sex?'

'Because!' she spluttered, not having quite found a suitably scathing response.

'I'm waiting…' prompted Nick.

He was having far too much fun with this, Sara thought.

'Because,' she snapped, 'you're really, really unattractive?' then hung up on him.

The phone rang again ten seconds later.

'What's the real reason?' asked Nick.

She'd been expecting another witty, outrageous comment from him and the question shocked her. 'What?'

'By the way, I laughed so much I fell off my chair.'

'Good,' said Sara. 'I hope it hurt. _What_ did you ask me?'

'Why haven't we ever slept together?'

'I…' Sara pushed her hair out of her eyes; she'd acquired a sudden headache. 'I didn't think you were being serious.'

'Neither did I,' answered Nick, and he sounded confused.

He had no right, thought Sara later in the day. No right to ask questions that she didn't have answers to.

Now as she lay in semi-darkness, curtains shutting out the light of day, Sara started thinking. Which was bad, because thinking meant she didn't get to sleep at all.

Fifteen minutes later she dialled Nick's number.

'Hello?'

'Did you mean it?' she demanded.

'Mean what?'

'That there was nothing wrong with me?'

'You know I meant it,' he assured her immediately.

'Then why have you never seriously wanted to sleep with me?'

There was a rather tense pause, and then Nick exhaled a deep breath. 'You're doing this to screw with my head, aren't you, Sidle?'

'I didn't want to be the only one with a screwy head,' she explained, half-joking.

'Okay. Well, what makes you think I've never seriously wanted you?'

'You've never tried to get me into bed,' she pointed out.

'Maybe I would want you for more than just sex.'

Would want. The words repeated themselves in her mind. Would? What did that mean?

'Sar,' he went on. 'Stop stressing about this.'

'Stop telling me what to do.'

Nick gave that chuckle again. Why was it that he never lost his temper with her? Was it that he knew she never meant half the angry things she said? If Ecklie and Cath and Grissom were like Nick, maybe she wouldn't have such a hard time getting along with them all.

'What's it going to take for you to realise that you're wonderful, Sara? That you're beautiful and amazingly clever and kind?'

'You can't help thinking the best of everyone-' she began.

'You can't help thinking the worst of yourself. That's a far more terrible crime.'

Nick tended to sound a lot like her therapist at times. 'I'm trying, aren't I?'

'Getting there. You should listen to me more, though. Hold on, someone's at the door.'

'Are you going to tell them to shove off?'

'For you? Not likely.'

Understandably, Nick was surprised to find her standing-rather nervously-on his doorstep. 'I didn't see _this _coming.'

'Want to help me get to sleep?'

He raised an eyebrow suggestively. 'Well now that you mention it, I know a few good ways…'

Sara shoved half a dozen DVDs at his chest and stepped inside. 'I thought we could watch a movie.'

He followed her into his living room, shaking his head in amusement. 'A movie sounds good.'

Sara let Nick choose the movie, watched him study the titles intensely as if it was some hugely important decision with a smile. It wasn't entirely clear to either of them why she was here, why things between them had been changing lately or even what those changes might lead to. Sara yawned, decided that she could analyse all that later and stole a little of Nick's blanket. Today she'd already figured out a few important things; she didn't want to be alone and nor did she have to be.

Fin.


End file.
